Chasing Katie
by Banshee13
Summary: Katie Bell, formidable Gryffindor Chaser, is in her sixth year at Hogwarts. A story of Quidditch, Romance, Pranks, and Detention.
1. Katie the singleton

You know in those old muggle films, how it's the same strategy – girl meets boy. Girl likes boy. An hour of feel good comical mishaps and witty one-liners. Which always ends the same - Girl LOVES boy. Boy LOVES girl.

It just doesn't happen like that.

When I was twelve, I had already perfected my very own life plan.

I'd be really good and studious (yeah, right!) I'd get excellent marks and have a perfect behavioural record with no detentions (well you try being best friends with Fred and George and not get a detention or two…) and by the time I turned fifteen I would have a very film–like romance.

Yes, a great love life – or at the very least a like- life.

But no.

This was, obviously never going to happen. I am sixteen years old, in my second to last year at Hogwarts School of witchcraft and wizardry, and I'm yet to have ever had a boyfriend. I don't understand it either, I mean, I'm not totally grotesque to look at – Even Eloise Midgeon was dating that Hufflepuff for a while.

Curse my freakishness! I am a complete failure as a woman. Not to mention my singleness is really beginning to affect my lifestyle – a few weeks back, this guy who'd obviously been very recently released from St. Mungo's Got down on one knee and proposed to me, and the very sad thing about it was, and you realize I shudder to think about it, that was the most romantic thing to EVER to Happen to poor old me.

A loon, wearing nothing but fluro orange knickers and a see-through poncho, proposes to me and that was the most romantic thing I've ever (and lets face it, will ever) experienced.

Of course that relationship could never have worked – not that I thought about it or anything…Fred jumped in front of me before anything could happen.

Guys just don't seem to want to give me the time of day – well except for Marcus Flint who had asked me out about four times on the Hogwarts express alone.

Which I have to admit I was a _little _bit flattered. Alicia or Leanne constantly tell me how I should "get out there! And stop being so shy!" easier said than done! You see I do actually have a problem with shyness, around boys I fancy anyway. And there are two possible reactions; I either stand silently whilst I make a few vowel sounds, which Makes People think I'm totally rude, or I go into the talk-incredibly-fast-so-they-think-I'm-a-complete-weirdo mode.

I can't help it! It's a birth defect.

So bored.

Bored.

Bored.

Something about unicorn hair.

So bored.

I should be writing this down. Concentrate. God, Snape's hair is so greasy!

Honestly though, it's gross.

"And now you may begin." Snape looked over the class, with such a look of disgust, it was almost comical, and sat down at his desk. Oh no. What are we doing? I looked over at Alicia, but she just gave me a dirty look,

"You should've been listening," she hissed.

Great. I looked over at Leanne but she was working so fast it was entirely possible she was on some kind of speed inducing drug. I tried to look behind me, at one of the Hufflepuff's potions subtly, but Snape saw, "Miss Bell, suffering a neck problem?"

"Well, no, sir"

"Five points from Gryffindor. Get back to your potion. You have 10 minutes."

Ok, well I'll just have to wing it.

Detention was quite relaxing, actually.

I managed to write my extra work in very large handwriting covered 5 pages.

Professor Snape seemed preoccupied.

He kept writing things down and then screwing up pieces of parchment and throwing them away.

Maybe he was drafting a Lonely Hearts ad.

Potions teacher, 38 but looks 57, bad hair, Big nose, Bad breath, no social skills, seeks Lady companion for badminton and what follows naturally.

I laughed inwardly for a few minutes, though perhaps a mistake, because it looked like I was imploding. A couple of fifth year Ravenclaws looked a me strangely.

Although thinking about it my own Lonely Hearts ad wouldn't be very tempting either.

"Flibbertygibbet" I said to the fat lady, when I arrived at the entrance to the Gryffindor common room after detention that night.

"BELL"

Oliver looked furious. Though I've never actually seen him anything other than furious. Perhaps pensive, on occasion flustered. Once or twice –

"ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING TO ME?" he shouted.

"Of course I was!" I really have to stop tuning out. I looked at Oliver; he really didn't look too impressed.

"The game against Hufflepuff is less than two weeks away, and you're missing practises! I really am beginning to question your commitment to this team Bell."

"And _I'm_ beginning to question your commitment to sleeping, eating and living Wood... now if you'll let me through...I've got training for those three."

I pushed my way past him and tore up the stairs to the girl's dormitories.

Alicia and Leanne were chatting animatedly on the floor when I threw the door open.

"Wood?" Leanne asked looking up from the latest copy of TeenWitch.

"Who else! Why is he making such a big deal? I missed _one_ practice! And not by choice! I had a detention!"

Alicia and Leanne looked at each other and smirked.

What's this? They can't have a personal joke! Since when are they allowed to not share?

It's about me isn't it? Oh god. I'm such a loser; my own friends make fun of me. Look at them staring at me. Those two! Well I don't need them –

"I have something that will cheer you up!" Alicia decided, breaking my fierce concentration on giving them both evil glares.

Thank goodness. Because, I was starting to give myself a headache.

"I got some interesting news today."

"Oh. Is that it? How is you getting the daily prophet supposed to cheer me up?" I rolled my eyes.

"No idiot. I heard along the grapevine that someone fancies you!"

"Oh God, this isn't another rumour about Millicent Bullstrode is it? Because that was so not fair on me! And just because she's heaps masculine doesn't mean that – I'm not defending her! It was me who was more affected! Oh the shame!"

"What's wrong with you Katie?" Alicia laughed. "I'm talking of someone of the male species! Someone, cute perhaps. I'm not saying anymore."

"That's so mean Alicia. Don't make stuff like that up; you know I'm completely undesirable. I have to go down to the kitchens now and drown my sorrows with chocolate!"

"Get me some too!" I heard Alicia call as I closed the door to our dormitory, and headed for the kitchens.


	2. Quidditch one on one

I rolled out of bed and landed with a thud on top of Alicia's hairbrush, "OW!" That's going to leave a mark. I re-adjusted to my new position, laying half on my bed, half with my face pressed against the dormitory carpet. And was falling back to sleep when -

"Katie! Leanne! Angelina!" Alicia screeched.

I could hear, mumbled 'five more minutes' and 'go back to bed'

"WE WERE SUPPOSED TO BE IN CLASS A HALF HOUR AGO!."

That got us all moving, Angelina jumped up first cursing.

We scrambled to find robes and hair ties.

"Where's my bloody sock?" Angelina dived on the floor, trying in vain to locate the sock that had gone M.I.A.

"Alicia you've got my bloody sock!"

"This is my sock, Angelina your wearing socks"

"No I'm not! Where are my socks?"

"Katie, your robes are on back to front!"

"Leanne, good god woman get dressed,"

We all scrambled about for another ten minutes, until finally we were all dressed.

"I can't believe we slept in! This is unbelievable" Angelina hissed as she ran off towards the Ancient Runes, Leanne following close behind.

Professor Sprout was glaring from her desk unfortunately seated right the table I was sharing as we sat doing theory work in Greenhouse four.

She had spent the first ten minutes after I'd arrived chastising me for being late. "Your complete disregard for any sort of common courtesy…you just can't be late in herbology …what if we had've been re potting devils snare? Oh just Sit down and get on with your work," snapped the flustered professor, trying to sound steely and terrifying, even though she had a weedy little voice and had muck all over her face from working in the greenhouse all day.

I picked up a dictionary and tried to look intelligent.

Flicking through it looking for amusing words.

I suddenly caught the professor's eye again.

A dangerous moment.

Ok. I'll do my essay...The root of the whomping willow is used in ...

"Now, Katie," tinkled Sprout with a severe frown, "Underneath all your wise-cracking I know there is a serious scholar trying to get out. Think of how proud your parents would be if you realised your potential. Now off you go – and remember, I'll be looking for signs of improvement!"

I nodded, trying to look tragic and guilty, and left the classroom.

"Ah lunch, is there a subject any finer?" George said with his mouth full, of what I could only identify as yellow mush.

"No Old Bean. There is not" Fred added rubbing his stomach. The three of us were sitting by the lake, we each had a free lesson so decided to spend it avoiding studying.

Across from us, Roger Davies and Oliver Wood were engaged in conversation, presumably something boring and masculine about Quidditch or something, they clearly looked like they'd begun to argue quite ferociously, suddenly Oliver stormed over to us and sat himself down besides me.

"Bloody Davies" he fumed.

"What's he done now?" I asked.

"He's only gone and booked the Quidditch pitch this afternoon!"

George and I looked at each other grinning! Yes! I have extra time to get ready for my date with Cedric!

"Oh, That sucks mate. Still, we have tomorrow to practise." George patted Oliver on the back. Giving me a look that clearly told me, this was very good news.

"Yay! A night off!" I did a little dance.

"What? You aren't getting a night off missy"

"What? But they booked the pitch!"

"Yeah, but he said we could have one end, not enough room for a whole team practise mind, but enough room for me to catch you up on what you missed the other night."

"Noo! This is so unfair!"

"Yeah. Well. I'll see you on the pitch at six sharp."

"I hate you." I said, throwing a clump of grass at his retreating form.

"No you don't!" he called back.

"You ready Bell?" Oliver clamped his hand on my shoulder, possibly in an attempt to knock me into the ground.

"Do I have to?"

He rolled his eyes and we headed over to the other side of the Quidditch pitch.

"Ok, we'll just do a few drills in throwing and catching ok?" He threw the Quaffle at me, and it hit me in the chest – hard.

"Ow! What the bloody hell was that for?"

"Testing your reflexes!" he smirked.

After a Quidditch practise that lasted approximately eleven years, Oliver decided we'd done enough and we headed to the Gryffindor locker rooms.

"My arms hurt, and my legs hurt, and my pockets hurt" I complained, dragging my broom behind me as we traipsed into the locker room.

"Do you always whinge this much?" Oliver raised an eyebrow.

"No I don't. I reserve my complaints for a time I feel appropriate and for a person who truly deserves to hear it, because of their truly, unbelievably inhumane –

"Forget I asked." He shook his head.

It didn't take long for us to get changed into our school robes, so we sat in the locker room for a while chatting.

"What do you mean you think the weird sisters suck? They are musical genius's!" I cried in dismay at Oliver's true lack of musical taste.

"I just think they are trying too hard to get a sound like the sinister spiders, you know that singer is lethal–

"Oliver. Gross. I don't need to sit in here while you salivate over girls, besides I don't think your girlfriend would like it that much!"

Oliver was currently dating a Ravenclaw seventh year called Erica Palmer. She was tall and slim with the most irritating laugh the world had ever had the misfortune to hear.

"I don't really wanna talk about her," Oliver said, suddenly straightening.

"Oh no, Oliver, I'm so sorry, She collapsed from malnourishment didn't she? Oh if I'd only made her a sandwich sooner!" I wiped imaginary tears from my eyes, as Oliver gave me a warning look, though the slight curve of the side of his mouth gave me the impression it was quite safe to continue.

"Oh dear, what will come of the wizarding world without Erica's truly intellectual comments, such as "Sure there have been injuries and deaths in Quidditch - but none of them serious", and "Half this game is ninety percent mental."

"Ok, Ok I get the point, you don't like her!" Oliver said standing up to be at eye level with me, though owing to his being a head taller than me it was a bit more intimidating than I had thought.

"My dear Oliver, it seems you've been misinformed! I don't dislike her at all! I loathe her, detest her with all my being." Oliver made to grab me, but a swift kick to the shin region made him recoil.

"what did you do that for?" He groaned rubbing his shin.

"Testing your reflexes!" I grinned and ran out of the change room, laughing like a maniac all the way back to the Gryffindor common room.


End file.
